‘Yes. Everything, sometimes.’
‘I don’t remember a lot about my mother,’ Kutch confessed. ‘But I’m grateful to her.’
‘She sold you.’
‘Well, yes. Only I reckon what she was really doing when she let Master Domex take me was giving me the best future she could. Like when my brother went into the army. I don’t know whether he really wanted to be a soldier. I think he just wanted to take the pressure off my mum, give her one less mouth to feed.’
‘Do you miss your brother?’
‘I’d like to see him again. I often wonder what happened to him.’
‘Why all this talk of families, Kutch? You don’t normally speak about it very much.’
‘It’s what’s happened to Kinsel, I suppose, and Tan. It’s
sad, isn’t it, Reeth? They all came together like a family, and now they’re split again. It doesn’t seem fair.’
‘Life isn’t always fair. You must have realised that by now. There’s no law that says the good come out on top.’
Kutch fell silent and thought about that. At length, he said, ‘What’s going to happen to Kinsel, do you think?’
‘What’s going to happen to him? Nothing too pleasant, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, it’s not like they sentenced him to death.’
‘They did. A slow, painful death. People don’t come back from the galleys, Kutch. If they’re lucky they meet their end quick and clean. In an accident at sea or something. They have plenty of those. Otherwise…’
‘Oh. Do you think Tan knows that?’
‘Of course she does.’
‘Only, I thought she was taking it quite well.’
‘She’s being brave. Or she’s in shock. Maybe both.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘Hear that?’
‘What is it?’
‘They’re coming.’
Distantly, but growing louder, the crowd could be heard. The nearer the convoy came, the more it was obvious that it wasn’t getting a uniform reception.
‘Why’s the crowd making that funny noise?’ Kutch wondered.
‘It’s not one noise. Some of them are cheering, some are booing. I guess feelings about Kinsel are pretty mixed.’
The lead wagon in the convoy came into sight and the roar increased.
‘Why are they doing it like this, Reeth?’ Kutch asked. ‘Taking him through the streets, I mean. They could have done it quietly, couldn’t they?’
‘They’re displaying a trophy, and sending a message. The message says no matter how high you might be, or how well
liked, you’re not above their vengeance. It’s intended to warn off others who might be tempted to stray into the Resistance camp. But I’m not sure they’ve got it right. Listen to the crowd.’
There was no doubt now that the bystanders were split. Cheers and boos went up in equal measure. Bizarrely, lots of people were clapping, but Caldason didn’t think it marked approval of what the authorities were doing. Some catcalled, spat and even threw things, but many more simply stood silently, their expressions morose. Here and there, people waved, and that couldn’t be called a gesture of ill-will. Kinsel’s popularity seemed intact as far as a goodly portion of the crowd was concerned.
Several wagons passed, loaded with militia. Cavalrymen and paladins acted as outriders. Then, in the middle of the convoy, the wagon holding Kinsel came into view. It bore a cage and Kinsel stood inside, hands clutching the bars. He wore an impassive expression. People hurled rotten fruit. Others tossed flowers.
In an instant, the wagon passed.
‘Come on,’ Caldason said.
The crowd, strangely quiet, had begun to disperse. Reeth and Kutch pushed their way to Serrah and Tanalvah.
‘Let’s not hang around here,’ Caldason suggested.
‘I think he saw me,’ Tanalvah said, eyes shining.
‘I’m sure he did,’ Serrah told her, slipping an arm around her friend’s shoulders. ‘But we have to leave now; it’s not safe to stay on the streets.’
Two Resistance men, known to them all, appeared and said they had a carriage waiting.
‘You go with Tanalvah, Kutch,’ Serrah told him. ‘Reeth and I will catch you up.’
They watched as Tanalvah, the apprentice and the Resistance men got into the carriage and left.
‘I don’t like the way she’s been acting, Reeth. It’s not natural.’
‘What’s natural in a situation like this? She’s in shock.’
‘That’s what I thought, but…I don’t know, this is something different.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘Shit, Reeth, she reminds me of…well, of
me
. The way I got a couple of months ago.’
‘You think she might try to harm herself?’
‘Maybe. Mind you, there are the children, and I think that should give her pause. Unless…’
‘You don’t think she’d hurt them?’
‘Unlikely.
Very
unlikely. But you can never really be sure what people will do. Believe me, I speak from experience.’
‘So it’d be best if you could be with her as much as possible.’
‘That’s what I figure. Damn it, Reeth! Why do you have to be going off to deliver the gold tomorrow?’
‘
What?
After all the trouble you went to persuading me? And Karr getting everything organised so fast? I can hardly call it off now, can I?’
‘No, of course you can’t. It’s lousy timing, that’s all. And…’
‘Yes?’
‘I just wish I was going with you.’
Once the convoy was away from the more populous parts of the city it picked up speed. The authorities had seen to it that the roads ahead were cleared, and there were foot patrols on every corner.
Finally the caravan rattled into the port area. The same harbour where, in what now seemed a dim and distant summer, Kinsel had first laid eyes on Tanalvah and the children.
His wagon drew up outside a large building with barred
windows and guards at the door. The cage was unlocked and, accompanied by a pair of wardens, his ankles shackled, Kinsel was taken in.
There were another fifty or sixty convicted men inside, huddled miserably on a line of benches. They wore manacles, with long chains running through them, so that all were bound together. Kinsel was shoved towards the nearest bench. A guard barked and its occupants slid along to make room for him. Then a smith knelt and fussed with the manacles, and Kinsel became part of the chain-gang.
It was cold, and the shapeless convict uniform of rough cloth Kinsel now wore offered little protection. The place was silent apart from the rattle of chains and occasional wheezing coughs. They were waiting for something, but nobody explained what. Half an hour later, he found out.
A muscular barrel of a man swaggered in. He was completely bald, save for a pencil-thin, black moustache, and his tanned skin looked oiled. He sported leather breeches and a sleeveless leather jerkin, unbuttoned over a hairless, bare chest, despite the season. On his upper right arm there was a tattoo of the Gath Tampoor dragon emblem. His boots were thick and heavy, and he had wide, studded bands on both wrists. A large and elaborate gold buckle secured his belt, from which hung a sheathed knife with a curved blade. He carried a coiled, barbed whip.
